


The Importance of Being Earnest

by Enid_Black



Series: Alternative Universe: 1950s [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: '50s AU, A day at the theatre, Pre-Slash, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 11:12:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2107668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enid_Black/pseuds/Enid_Black
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Code Name I make reference to Mycroft and Lestrade being together.<br/>This is how they started to discover they had more in common than looking after Sherlock</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Importance of Being Earnest

February 1939

The worries deriving from the German war-like movements, the intelligence coming back from Berlin with growingly worrying news, especially after the Anschluss of Austria the previous March, and the headaches his superiors were giving him with their idiocy just disappeared as soon as Mycroft Holmes, 29 years old, rampaging MI6 agent and promising future head of the agency, stepped inside of the Globe’s curved entrance. The theatre was very warm, in contrast with the damp cold of a mid-February Monday afternoon in London, and Mycroft was glad to shed his gloves and coat and give them to the wardrobe lady. The young woman took them with a small curtsey and went on the back. Mycroft breathed deeply, forcing his shoulder to relax, he was there to enjoy his time off, for once. “The Importance of Being Earnest” directed and played by John Gielgud was advertised in bold letters on the outside of the theatre and he had been longing for this moment of peace for a few days now. He crossed the foyer, bidding his hello to some people he knew and to the people who worked there that addressed him with a once familiar “Good afternoon, Mr Holmes.” He turned left once, climbed the few steps that led to the bar and took the staircase up to the balconies on the dress circle, his one being on the left, looking at the stage. The usher opened the tent for him and bade him goodbye, after making sure that he was comfortable. Mycroft sighed in relief once he was finally alone. 

He took out a copy of Le Temps and started reading it, scanning the articles for clues. When the lights went out, he neatly closed it and adjusted his seating in order to enjoy the play.  
Behind the rising curtain, the past but not forgotten Victorian Era came back to life, whilst Algernon entered on stage asking:

“Did you hear what I was playing, Lane?”

***

The curtain closed on the end of the first act and Mycroft decided to go outside and mingle a bit at the bar. The coldness of the season surely called for something warm at least, as it was not a suitable hour for a brandy. He descended the stairs and passed through the doors that led back to the foyer, trying to decide if the queue was worth the tea, when a face he knew flashed amidst the crowd. Liason Agent Gregory Lestrade in the MI5 and MI6, whose assignment often was that of liasing for his brother, Sherlock, though his actual role mostly resembled more that of a glorified nanny. Mycroft hid his look of disappointment: his brother seemed to have a secret wicked pleasure in disturbing him in his few free afternoons, and, tea forgotten, made his way towards the man.

“Mr Lestrade,” he started, coming up behind the man and at least enjoying his slight jolt of surprise at hearing his voice. Lestrade turned around quickly and looked at Mycroft as if he weren’t expecting to see him there. Mycroft’s brain registered the inconsistency right away, but his mouth moved nonetheless, “what has my brother done, now?” he asked.

Gregory Lestrade quickly recovered, and greeted Mycroft. "Mr Holmes, good evening. What do you mean, was Sherlock on mission or something?" He asked, genuinely puzzled.

Mycroft lift an eyebrow, "You are not here on duty to complain about Sherlock." he said and it was not a question.

"No," Lestrade answered dragging the 'o' a bit, "I'm here to see the show. I've managed to find a ticket for the matinée at the last minute... " Mycroft managed to refrain from lifting the other eyebrow but sighed loudly.

"Ah, thank goodness, I wouldn't have appreciated to leave the theatre early." Gregory smiled at that.

"I understand the feeling." He said. Then cleared his throat. In the following years, Mycroft would not be able to explain what happened to him that day.

"Well, I am sorry for startling you, then. How do you find the play so far?"

If Lestrade was surprised to be addressed so casually from _Mycroft Holmes_ , the same man who kidnapped him on his first day of service as Sherlock's L.A. to be sure that he was... _fit_ for the job, he recovered quickly.

"I like Gielgud's style of directing and interpreting, and I have an inner fondness for Wilde's works... so I have to say that I am enjoying it, even from the appalling seat I've found. Luckily the theatre's sound is great."

"Where are you sitting?" The elder Holmes asked.

"Oh, on the stage level, it's not that bad per se but I have a woman with the largest hat ever in front of me... I am just thankful that I am not behind a column or something."  
And once again, it seemed to be a recurring problem in the presence of the older man, Mycroft's mouth moved before his brain (and that was really saying something). 

"Would you like to join me on the balcony?” Mycroft barely managed to keep a horrified expression from appearing on his face, not because of the words (he would have liked a lot to have Agent Lestrade on his balcony), but because he could not believe that his mouth was running away from him in such a despicable way. “I mean,” he tried to recover, “it’s a pity that you can’t see the play properly, there’s plenty of space on the balcony.” Lestrade looked taken aback.

“Oh, Mr Holmes, thank you but I wouldn’t want to intrude with your guests…” he started.

“No intrusion whatsoever, I have no guests at the moment and the only other person who could use it is Sherlock, and you and I know well that theatre is not one of his interests.” Lestrade smirked at that. “So, please, consider it a thank you for your ability to endure Sherlock’s shenanigans during the missions.”

“Are you sure that I won’t be disturbing you?” Lestrade asked, too tempted by the offer to refuse right away (like he felt he should have done).

“Absolutely. There’s plenty of space.” (Repeating himself. This was definitely going out of his control. A less educated man would have added “duh”)  
Gregory’s mouth curved up in a small smile.

“Then I’ll have the cheek to accept your offer, Mr Holmes.” he finally answered. Mycroft allowed himself a small smirk of victory. “Well,” Lestrade added immediately, “What do you think of the play, Mr Holmes?”  
Tea or brandy forgotten, Mycroft and Lestrade talked about the play for the whole intermission, often (sometimes surprisingly) finding themselves in agreement on several points. When the audience was called back to their seats , Mycroft looked expectantly at Gregory and said, “Shall we?”. The Liaison Agent nodded and followed the elder Holmes to his balcony. It held three comfortable seats on a line. Mycroft took the seat on the left for himself, much like during the first act. Lestrade eyed the free seats for a second, and then sat on the middle one, next to Mycroft. As the lights went out, neither man could see the other’s small smile curving a side of their mouths. And if Lestrade’s eyes sometimes drifted from the stage to the man at his side, well, nobody saw that and Mycroft Holmes was surely a better view than a hat full of flowers and feathers.

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story has come out during my trip in London in May with the awesome NepturnalHarianne (who is the Beta even in this case, thanks darling). We were due to go and see Blithe Spirit with the great Angela Lansbury at the Gielgud theatre when this small idea for a spin off on Code Name (a Prequel of sorts on Mycroft and Lestrade’s relationship) came into my mind and I started talking about it with her. In a journey towards Islington (on the wrong bus) and towards the West End (on the right bus XD) and sitting at a high table inside St James’ Tavern (in front of the London Trocadero, a few yards from the Gielgud theatre itself), I don’t know why but this little thing struck. I tried to get as many references as possible to the past of the actual Gielgud Theatre (that, until 1994, was called The Globe, thus the name in the story) and “The Importance of Being Earnest” directed by John Gielgud was actually on play in the period I’ve mentioned in the one shot… I hope you have enjoyed it and don’t worry about “A Study in Moustache”, I’m not a fast writer for long stories but it’s being written and it will be finished. That’s why I usually write one-shots, nowadays, actually, but Joan and Sherlock’s tale could not be contained to three chapters XD.


End file.
